


i have your ghost

by wolfchester



Series: friendly savages [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, it got sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: another oldie (from 2014!) that i'm posting !!! again, ignore any mistakes or otherwise terrible writing.....i wrote this a loooong long time ago and have not edited since! just clearin out my drafts and letting myself feel a lil emotional about supernatural again after all these years...song title & lyrics from 'i have your ghost' by friendly savages
Relationships: Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: friendly savages [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977598
Kudos: 4





	i have your ghost

**Author's Note:**

> another oldie (from 2014!) that i'm posting !!! again, ignore any mistakes or otherwise terrible writing.....i wrote this a loooong long time ago and have not edited since! just clearin out my drafts and letting myself feel a lil emotional about supernatural again after all these years...
> 
> song title & lyrics from 'i have your ghost' by friendly savages

_ no leaves on the ground _

_ no shade in the creek bed _

_ i lay my fears down _

_ they won’t go nowhere _

_ love is an echo _

_ under the corn snow _

_ memories are dirt roads _

_ lost in the woods _

_ but i’m not alone _

_ i'm nobody’s stranger _

_ i have your ghost _

_ to carry me through _

* * *

Sometimes Dean’ll be driving down a tree-lined street in a no-name town in the middle of nowhere, and Sam will look out of the window and see a little house with a white picket fence, and the first thing he will think of is a blonde-haired girl with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. The second thing he thinks of is red slashes down her stomach, dripping blood onto his forehead, and  _ fire fire fire _ . Blazing, blazing fire.

He will then close his eyes against the memory and sigh. But the feeling never really goes away, like there’s a hole in his chest not made by a particularly nasty werewolf or a violent ghost, but by the pain of a love lost.

And then there’s another small town, another tree-lined street, another little house, another painful memory. Sam remembers a time when he and Jess stood outside a house like this, back in the days when hunting with Dean and John was a long-ago memory and upcoming exams and how he was going to propose to Jess were his only problems. He remembers standing in front of a house like this, a “for sale” sign on it’s perfect green lawn, and saying to his girlfriend:  _ “Someday, Jess, this is gonna be ours.” _ And Jess just smiled, kissed him on the cheek and said:  _ “One day.”  _

But now she’s gone, and he’s stuck looking at houses like these in passing and thinking  _ “Never again.” _

* * *

It’s springtime, Jess’ favourite time of year because  _ “that’s when flowers are in bloom, Sam!”  _ He buys his girl her favourite magnolias every Sunday and she smiles when he comes home from school and hands them to her with a kiss.

They decide to go out to Colorado to celebrate their anniversary during Spring Break. There’s still snow on the mountain and Jess is excited because she’s never been skiing before.

The soft corn snow is perfect for Sam to teach Jess how to ski, and after days of falling over and snowball fights, they end up in a cabin in a lodge, hot chocolate in their hands and blankets around their feet. Sam will look at Jess and say  _ “I’m going to marry you someday, and then we can do this all the time”  _ and Jess always replies  _ “One day, baby, one day.”  _

The forests in the area are perfect for hiking, and they visit the trails a few days out of the week when Jess is tired of snow and wants some green. Brown dirt cakes the bottom of their shoes and burs stick to their shirts like clingy lovers, but there’s love and beauty in those woods. Together they watch the sunset atop a hill overlooking a lake, and they make love in the cabin down the track, and Jess’ laughter rings throughout the woods all day. 

He can still hear it sometimes, when he and Dean are trekking through a wood not unlike the ones he and Jess visited. But this time, there’s no blonde-haired girl laughing by his side and instead Rugaru blood on his hands.

They used to say that  _ love hurts _ . And as a kid, as a teenager, Sam always thought it meant a  _ good  _ kind of hurt. The kind that makes you want to keep being around the person, keep touching them, keep feeling their smile, even if it cuts you up inside when they’re gone. 

Up until that night, Sam always thought love hurt in a good way. But every single day after seeing Jess burn, seeing those terrible flames engulf her body…

* * *

Love does hurt, like everyone said. But the kind of love Sam feels - it’s not a good kind of hurt. It makes it hard to breathe when he digs up something in his bag that Jess used to wear when she stayed over at his place. He’ll go to the supermarket and see the type of shampoo Jess used, and sometimes he’ll smell it just to  _ remember _ , but it always ends up in silent tears in the supermarket aisle and hands in sunken pockets.

Love cuts a hole in his chest, digs out his heart and rips it in half. After loving Jess he couldn’t think he could love anyone else, and he  _ hasn’t _ , because love sewed his heart to Jess’ and it burnt on that ceiling just like she did. 

Love hurts, and it bleeds, and it leaves fingerprints around his neck and bruises on his hands and he can still feel her  _ smile  _ goddamnit.

It hurts and it hurts and it hurts. But sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes when he thinks of Jess he smiles instead of cries. He thinks not of the fire and all the hollow words left in his mouth, but of laughter in woods and hands held on midsummer nights. She visits him in his dreams on the odd occasion, and her hair and her lips look so  _ real  _ that he reaches out to touch her before realising that she’s not really there. In his dreams she just smiles, brushes her hand across his brow, and whispers:  _ “One day, baby, one day.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on tumblr @jjmaybank!!


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